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User blog:Degrassi Forever/Destroying Juliet, Chapter Four
THIS IS NOT A FAN-FICTION. THIS IS A STORY I WORKED ON DURING MY SUMMER HOLIDAYS. Wing Defence: The girl's change room was a free-standing building near the netball courts. It was long and rectangular, lined with timber-slatted benches, above which were evenly spaced coat hooks. Down the far end was a row of showers with lockable doors, and through another doorway was a room of toilets. I'd chosen a space not far from the showers, near the corner, far enough away from the others to preserve my modesty. Back home we changed in the toilets, behind closed doors. But I didn't want to do that here - at least I didn't want to look like a prude. I quickly stripped off my shirt and pulled on my sports top. When it was covering my bum, I slid my skirt down and wrapped my pleated skirt around me. Other girls walked around in their bras, laughing and talking, and I noticed Shae, surrounded by a group of her friends. She hadn't said anything to me when I walked in, but I was pretty sure they were all talking about me, the way they whispered and looked my way. Shae was sitting on a bench in her sports skirt and light blue bra, brushing her hair while her friends stood around admiring her. I pegged my shirt over a coat hook and noticed hers was swinging neatly on a coat hanger. On the bench underneath she'd folded her skirt up perfectly and below that, on the floor, she'd placed her shoes neatly side by side. I shoved the rest of my gear in my bag and, looking at the floor, made my way past them. As the door shut behind me I was sure I heard one of Alice's friends say, "She looks completely up herself." It really worried me. I wasn't sure what reason anyone would have not to like me. I hadn't done anything wrong - though it felt like everything I did was wrong. Why don't they like me? ''I told myself not to be so paranoid. Miss Fisher blew the whistle and called us over. It was quite warm and we stood on the bitumen of the netball courts in a line in front of her. A few of the girls stood hands on hips, looking completely uninterested in playing sport. I noticed Shae making eye contact with the teacher and smiling in a teacher's pet kind of way. "Shae and Courtney pick your teams," Miss Fisher said and the two of them went to stand next to her. Back home, if I wasn't selected to pick the team, I was always picked first. I'm not Olympic stuff, but I'm not bad at most sports and I've had a lot of practice shooting hoops. Let's face it, in the country you either play sport and stay fit, or watch DVDs, play X-Box and get fat. With great surperiority, the two of them surveyed us like we were this season's lamb, their eyes quickly skimming over us as the assesed our potential. "Hollie," Shae said, smiling obviously. Hollie proprietarily walked over to join Shae. It was no great surprise to ayone, even me, who'd been in school for all of five minutes. Hollie was her best friend. Then Courtney made her first choice, and on it went until all the girls were on the other side of the court except me and a small, pasty looking girl. ''Phys Ed lesson number one: complete humiliation."I'll have..." Shae paused, deliberating between me and the other girl,"Juliet then." And I wasn;t being paranoid when I saw the face Hollie pulled at her. "Well I'll have Spaz," Courtney sighed, and the girl called Spaz shuffled towards her team like she was going to a funeral. We stood in a circle around Shae so she could hand out the bibs. "What postition do you play?" she asked me. "Anywhere," I said. I didn't want to look pushy. "Well, I don't know what you're good at - what would you like to play?" she asked, sounding irritated. "Oh, goal attack," I said, then, as her face transformed into a sneer, I quickly added, "shooter, centre, whatever." "I'm the goal attack," Shae said, pulling on the bib. "And those other positions are taken. You can be the wing defence." She threw the bib at me and ran down to the far goal, the other girls following her. I might as well have sat on the bench. No-one passed me the ball. In fact the only time I touched it was when it went off court and I ran and chased it. Even if I was out first for the centre pass, Hollie would look for Shae. Shae was really good, fast and a quick interceptor, and her goal accuracy was almost perfect. By half time I didn't even try and jump off the line. It just made me feel stupid, running forward, hands outstretched and calling for the ball while Hollie waited for Shae to take the centre pass. So when the whistle blew I stood on the line as the attack ran out. This time, of course, Hollie looked over her shoulder at me and threw the ball. It hit me so hard in the chest I stepped backwards, slightly winded. Miss Fisher blew the whistle. "Not in the centre third," she snapped. I looked at me feet and both of them were still behind the line. Courtney snatched the ball out of my hands and Hollie looked at me shaking her head. "Nice one," she scorned. No-one spoke to me as we walked back to the change rooms. I took my towel and soap into the shower and locked the door. My hands were shaking and I felt like crying. It wasn't supposed to be like this. I wished I was home. I turned the water off and heard them talking, but I couldn't hear what they were saying. I'd left my uniform out there. I didn't want to walk out with a towel around me so I sat on the wooden bench in the shower stall, aware I was making my knickers wet, and tried to listen to their conversation. But there was too much noise, though I was sure I heard my name. I didn't want to come out and face any of them. Then I heard the siren go for lunch and the sound of bags being picked up and voices getting softer as everyone left the change rooms. I wanted to stay in the shower cubicle for the rest of the day. When it was quiet I came out. The room smelled of different deodarents and my shirt was sitting in a small puddle on the floor. I grimaced as I put it on, the wet patch sticking to my back. Over the school crest was the faint outline of a shoe print. My bag wasn't where I'd left it either. I found it in one of the toilets, its contents scattered across the floor and a sanitary bin upended on it. After I'd gathered all my gear up I opened the outside door. But I didn't know where to go. Hesitantly I made my way down to the netball courts, hoping Sukey and her friends would still want me to join them. Marshall saw me coming and jumped up quickly. "Darling," he cried, deliberately camping it up, "I hoped you'd come back." "Thanks," I said gratefully, sitting down to eat my lunch, even though I wasn't hungry. The whole lunch break Marshall filled me in on the who's who, while the girls volunteered little bits of detail here and there. I kept trying to make eye contact with Tamara, who still wasn't being very friendly. "Shae and the Bitches rule the school," Marshall said. "She's always the first to offer to show a new kid around so she can decide if they are A group or not." "I guess I'm a reject," I said, and laughed, even though I felt really hurt. I learned that if you were rejected, like I was, your options were b Group, a relatively friendly bunch, invited to most of the parties and considered cool, or C Group, which included the freaks or retards - the study geeks and computer nerds. Below these were the misfit groups. "We're like Z Group," Marshall laughed. "The boy population isn't divided like the girls; you're either popular or a geek. As I'm neither I prefer to sit with the girls." I figured it was because he was gay. Back home I'd never met a gay guy, it was really bizzare. Marshall was really interesting and so cute - what a waste! I couldn't stop thinking: you like guys!"You want to watch that prissy bitch," said Tamara. "Shae is a whole pile of trouble." "Why?" I asked, trying to prolong a conversation with her. This was the first time she'd really addressed me. "Get on the wrong side of her and you're rooted." Tamara held my gaze with her narrow little eyes and I wondered who was really more trouble: her or Shae. "Anyway," Sukey said, rescuing me by changing the subject, "tell us about your last school." for the rest of the break I filled them in on the completely different culture of the country. As I spoke about it I realised how much I missed the wide open spaces, the yellow, often dry landscape, the way everyone in town knows everyone else's business, the feeling of identity when everyone passes you and says hello and fills you in on the latest. "We lived in the town centre - if you could call it that. Basically one long street and one main intersection, no traffic lights." I spooned some hummus onto a dry cracker. "Mum and Dad both taught at the high school. Actually, there was only one school, pre-primary to Year Twelve." "That must have been weird, going to school with your mum and dad," Jemima said. "Yeah it was," I said thinking about how we'd all walk out the door in the morning at the same time and then return in the afternoon at the same time. "You didn't want to piss any teachers off Or they'd have your parents stopping by the next class. For a chat." As I said it I realised I'd never seen how restrictive it had all been. but God, it had. They'd have made sure I had a tag team of suitable friends lined up to show me around the school if they worked here. They would've known in a flash if I had the slightest problem, and then set about it, in their way, rectifying it. I told them about the pottery making and veggie growing. How Dad didn't want to come back to the city, but Mum had really made us, for the money and the opportunities. "Are they still hippies?" Jemima asked. "Dad, definitely," I said picking at my alfalfa sprouts. "He'll always be that way, from his appearance to his politics. His whole life is centred on feelings and family unity." I feel a bit embarassed talking about Dad like that. Though I'd always known he was different from other dads, he never seemed as strange as he did now. I was used to his tie-dyed clothing and long, greying ponytail and he'd always seemed pretty cool to me. I tried to make my family sound less weird. "But Mum, not at all. Having kids made her want money and live in a place where we could all have a real life." I smiled and shrugged, trying to convey how stupid I thought my parents were. "Did you have a boyfriend?" Sukey asked. I thought about Jake; he was like my brother, we did everything together. I trusted him with anything. But a boyfriend - no way! He was always going to be a farmer's son and though I loved me home I always knew I wasn't going to stay in the country forever. I didn't want a future of hard leather faces, tractor driving and sheep shearing. But I didn't want them all to think I was this backwater chick who hadn't had a life - and every time I spoke about my home and family, that's how I felt. Little Miss Nobody, done nothing, seen nothing. "Not really," I tried to sound ambiguous. "There was this one guy, Jake, who, well, you know." I watched Sukey and Jemima swap glances. So I tried to play it up a bit, without actually lying. "We'd go to school socials and stuff together. You know. He would've been my Ball partner next year. If I'd stayed." "What's he look like?" Jemima asked. "Tall," I said, even though he was only a centimetre taller than me, "good body, well, he is captain of the boy's hockey team." I laughed in what I thought was a knowing way. I wanted them to think I was more experienced than I was. Marshall was staring off over the football field. "Sounds likes you love him," Jemima said. "No way," I exclaimed too loudly, "he was a convenient partner," Sorry Jake. The siren went and I started picking up my books. When I looked back up Jemima was watching me. "What?" I asked nervously, frightened I'd said too much again and looked like an up-myself bitch. "Nothing." she said dismissively. Go to Chapter Five Category:Blog posts